


Starting Over Again

by AmalynnJon



Category: The Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: F/M, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-15
Updated: 2016-02-15
Packaged: 2018-05-20 15:13:06
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,699
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6013477
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AmalynnJon/pseuds/AmalynnJon
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Daryl returns to Alexandria with one person on his mind.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Starting Over Again

**Author's Note:**

> This story is just something I hoped to see when Daryl returns to Alexandria. Brief spoilers for 6x09. It's stream of conscious and unbetaed. Please pardon my mistakes.

Bodies lined the street, Alexandrians and walkers scattered together in the bloody wreckage.  Daryl's chest heaved and adrenaline pumped furiously through his veins, his head swiveling in every direction looking for any remaining threats. Sweat and blood drenched his shirt, his hair was plastered to his face, and his jaw was set tight, gun in one hand and his knife held high in the other.  

Rick stood on his right, a ball of rage, his own adrenaline his only tie to sanity as his son laid inside the church fighting for his life. Michonne flanked him on his other side, her katana at the ready, her own breath heavy and erratic. 

Rosita burst through the church doors, her cheeks flushed, "Rick!" 

Rick looked to Daryl, the battle evident in his gaze, the father and leader at war, one desperate to go to his son, the other needing to be sure that the threat could be handled without him, that his people were safe. 

"Go on man," Daryl urged, "We got this," he indicated the few remaining walkers that shuffled along on the street. 

Rick nodded once and ran to the church. 

Daryl watched as Michonne took out two walkers, her blade slicing with exact precision through their heads. 

Soft growls echoed behind him and in one fluid motion, he spun, grunting as he drove his knife into the skull of the dead that had crept up on him. 

Looking around, amongst the carnage, it appeared the walkers in their vicinity had been dealt with, obviously all of Alexandria would have to be combed over but the threat level had diminished significantly. 

The cost though had been staggering.  Deanna, Jesse, Ron, and Sam.  Dead. So many other Alexandrians, who's faces were becoming more and more familiar as the days past.  Lost.  Gone. Carl shot, fighting for his life. This wasn't how it was suppose to be. He had convinced himself that Alexandria was a safe haven, a place where they could start over. 

Daryl's eyes briefly fluttered close, _Carol_.   

He had been so desperate to get back here, so desperate to get back to her. He had thought of little else but her while out. When that horn had blown and the gunshots had sounded over the walkie, every thought had been consumed by Carol. 

It had hit him like a tidal wave and had set his heart racing. He cared about every member of his family but with Carol it was _more_ and the need to see her had been overwhelming.   

Rick had been right though, returning to Alexandria would have been for him, he had had a job to finish for the community, for _her_. 

Circumstances out of his control had kept him away longer. The couple and the kid; those assholes on the road, and battling the herd that had infiltrated their home. He had yet to find her, he had been thrust into action immediately when he, Abraham, and Sasha had returned. Abe and Sasha had used the grenade launcher they had found to distract the walkers and then used the fuel to burn a large majority of them.   

Daryl had ran into the community blindly, his mind set on finding one person but he had come across Rick taking out walkers like a man possessed. Helping his friend had been necessary.   

He looked over at Michonne and in silent agreement they entered the church. As much  as he wanted - _needed_ \- to find Carol, he knew she would want him to do whatever was needed from him for Carl.   

Rick was knelt before his boy, his forehead resting on Carl's chest. The boy was pale, so pale, and he had a bandage wrapped around his head, covering his eye.  Daryl's heart dropped. _Not_ _Carl_.   

Michonne rushed forward, but Tara grabbed her arm before she reached Rick and his son. 

"He's going to live. The bullet missed his brain,"  she reassured.   

Michonne slumped forward, relief pouring from her every pore. 

Tara swallowed heavily, her eyes downcast, "His eye was too damaged -," she trailed off, not needing to explain. Carl would lose his eye, but at least he was alive. 

That would have been something they would have struggled to move on from, something that would have destroyed whatever sanity Rick still clung to. 

There was nothing he could contribute here.  With Deanna dead and Rick by his son's side, someone needed to check the rest of Alexandria...and there was one person he still needed to find.   

He cleared his throat, catching Rosita's attention. "Y'seen Carol?"   

He had thought about throwing in someone else's name, attempt to hide the fact that only one person was on his mind, but in the end he hadn't given a shit. Carol was the one he wanted to know about, the one he wanted to see.  

Something flashed in her eyes and she immediately broke eye contact, her hand fidgeting with the bunt of her rifle.   

"Last I saw she was fighting the herd outside of Morgan's place." 

He knew there was more, could sense her unease and he damn well didn't like it. If something had happened to her...he couldn't stop the fear that grabbed hold of his heart. 

"What ain't y'sayin'?"  He growled. 

"Look Daryl.  It's not my place to say. Carol will -" 

"Tell me -" 

"Carol and Morgan had a dispute over the matter of the wolf that Morgan had kept concealed. This led to a physical confrontation that left both parties unconscious." 

Daryl stepped towards Eugene aggressively, his jaw set, his cheek twitching.  "What?" 

Eugene coward, positioning himself behind Tara. 

"Unconscious?"  Daryl growled. 

He was met with silence. 

"Someone better tell me what the hell happened... _now_ ," he ground out.   

Tara held up her hands, "OK dude - just chill.  We'll tell you what we know." 

"She hurt?" His voice cracked and he inwardly cursed over his overt showing of emotion.   

"Things got intense for a bit," Tara explained, "Carol did get knocked unconscious." 

His heart dropped, panic sweeping over him. It must have showed on his face because Rosita stepped forward.  "She was only out about five minutes. She was awake, her eyes were clear, she didn't seem to have a concussion." 

"Didn't _seem_ to? Or didn't." 

"There wasn't time for a full exam. The wolf had Denise and the herd was a threat." 

"You know Carol," Tara added, "full speed ahead. She insisted on helping." 

That was exactly who Carol was, always putting others before her own well being. It was a trait that frustrated him to no end but it was also one of the very things about her that he lov-. He closed his eyes, the 'L' word had always been a word that had meant very little to him in the past, but today had been a revelation, everything that had happened, everything that they had been through had led him to that one defining moment that had the ability to turn his world upside down. He loved Carol, more than that, he was _in love_ with her. Had been for some time, he just hadn't had the time until they were in Alexandria to examine all that he felt. He had convinced himself she wasn't ready to hear, that she couldn't possibly feel the same way, when in reality he had just been too damn afraid of what it all meant.  

"What the hell is a wolf." 

"The people that attacked Alexandria called themselves the wolves. They came in slaughtering everyone in their path.  If it hadn't been for Carol, we'd probably all be dead," Rosita said. 

"One survived," he questioned, his mind processing the danger they had all been in and the lengths Carol had gone to save them. 

Rosita and Tara shared a look and he growled in frustration. 

"Jus' tell me!" 

Tara cleared her throat, "Morgan disagreed about killing the wolves, kept one hidden-" 

"That son-of-a-bitch," his voice echoed throughout the tiny church, drawing the attention of everyone. 

Michonne placed her hand on his shoulder, "Daryl - This isn't time for that." 

He shrugged her hand off, not at all in the mood to listen to reason.   The man had put the entire group in danger, had put _her_ in danger, had made a mockery of everything she had sacrificed to save this place, these people.  It pissed him off. 

"Where's Carol now?"  he demanded, his tone clear that he was not to be messed with. 

"She was with Aaron - and Morgan, just outside of Morgan's place the last we saw her. " 

He  turned immediately and was out the door, his light jog turning to a dead run when finally outside. He couldn't quite remember what house Morgan had holed himself up in, but he'd run through the entire fucking town if that's what it took to find her. 

He grabbed a walker in his path, stabbing his knife through its skull and then violently pushed it aside, the action barely slowing him down. 

He rounded the corner and stopped dead in his tracks.  There she stood, next to Aaron, the two of them working in tandem to eliminate a few of the stragglers.  Her crisp white shirt was covered in blood and dirt and he couldn't remember ever seeing something so beautiful. 

He watched her bend over the body of one of the walkers, driving her knuckle knife into its brain ensuring its final death.  Her movements were swift and smooth, doing the task with a practiced ease, but there was a tension that lingered in her frame that he knew well.  She hated to kill, even when it was necessary and even if it was one that was already dead. 

Aaron reached out to help Carol stand, his hand lingering on her elbow to check that she was alright. She offered him a barely visible smile and nodded.  Her head turned and she too froze as their eyes met.  Surprise and relief flickered across her features. 

Daryl's heart pounded wildly in his chest, so loud that he wouldn't be shocked if every walker from miles were drawn to the sound. 

He was moving before he even realized.  His heart leading him.  Pulled to her like he always was, like he always had been ever since that time he had watched her swing that pickaxe into the skull of her bastard asshole of a husband. 

Carol was advancing towards him as well causing his quick gait to turn into a jog.  The need to be as close to her as possible driving him. 

They were both breathless when they finally reached one another. 

Her eyes were wide and tears swam in the corners of her eyes.  "You're back...alive," her voice was just above a whisper. 

He resisted the urge to reach out, to touch her, reassure her that he was indeed alive, reassure himself that she too was there, breathing, real - in front of him. 

"I'm here - y'alright?"  He finally touched her, his hand sliding down her arm, eyes scanning her, looking for injuries, looking for bites. 

"I'm not bit," she grabbed his elbow, gripping him tightly, her eyes studying his face before they fell to his shoulder. 

Immediately she moved closer, her hand lightly investigating his injury, "What happened?"   

The worry in her tone had his heart screaming with love for her.  Her concern for him was her first priority, even after the day from hell she had also faced.  He had never experienced a love like that before, a love that continuously put him first. 

"M'fine," he muttered.  He wasn't at all worried about himself. 

His fingers caressed her cheek.  She was pale, so pale...too pale. 

"C'mon," he urged, "Y'should lie down." 

She shook her head slowly back and forth, her mouth opening to speak.  He watched horrified as her eyes rolled back into her head and he was forced to catch her as her knees gave out. 

* * *

His eyes watched the steady rhythm of Carol's breathing, each rise and fall of her chest making him feel more and more at ease. She was alright.  She was _alive_.  

 After she had passed out, he had brought her to the small clinic, sending Aaron to get Denise.  Carol had been out for over a day and he had only left her side long enough to take a quick shower and get his shoulder stitched up, having to be forced to even do that. 

A soft sound escaped past her lips and he was on his feet, hovering over her, watching her anxiously for any signs of discomfort, his hand itching to hold hers.  Her eyes blinked and his body leaned forward on instinct, a desperate need to see those blue eyes, the ones that could ease his anxious mind, could push him to do things outside of his comfort level and at times - those eyes could set a fire in his stomach that had him wanting things that he had never even dreamed about having. 

"Hey," he whispered when her eyes finally blinked open, the emotion in his voice clear but he didn't give a shit. 

"Where am I," her voice cracked, raw and dry, dehydrated.   

"At the clinic." 

He knew the moment the memory of the past couple of days came back, panic crossed her features and she tried to sit up, "The walkers-" 

He held her still, his hand on her shoulder, gently pushing her down. "Everything's fine, it's taken care of.  Everything's secure." 

Her vision seemed to clear and she scanned his body urgently. 

"What happened out there?  With you-" 

"What didn't happen out there."  He swallowed heavily, remembering every damn annoying detail.  "Was like the entire damn universe was conspirin' to keep me from here, from _"  He trailed off, the _you_ still hanging on his tongue.  He knew she wasn't quite ready to hear that yet, not quite ready for him to bombard her with his emotional discoveries out on the road regarding her, regarding them,  but he knew that it was time.  He couldn't hold onto it any longer, death was around every corner in this world and she deserved to know how he felt, but the clinic was not the place.  He'd tell her as soon as she was out. 

"Ran into some assholes, took care of them," he explained, not feeling the need to go into detail. 

"They going to be a problem still," she asked. 

"Might be. But we'll manage it, all together.  We gotta." 

She nodded her head, a troubled look still lingered in her eyes.   

It urged him to continue, "When I was out there, there was one point where I just thought I was done.  Jus' one thing after another, y'know?  Was lyin' on the ground, everything was burnt and then there was this walker and -"  He reached behind him grabbing the bottle that held the Cherokee Rose. "There it was on the back of the walker, a fuckin' beacon of hope.  A beautiful reminder of what I had waitin' for me at home."   

He watched her closely, a tear falling freely down her cheek.  He set the rose on the small table beside the bed and wrapped his hand around hers.  "Whatever happened or whatever happens - we're gonna deal with it."  He took a deep breath, "I don't wanna do this without you." 

A soft sound passed through her lips and his own tears threatened to fall.  He lifted her arm and rested his forehead on the back of her hand, attempting to reel in his own emotions.    

After a few moments of silence, he looked at her once more, "You rest," he told her quietly. "And tomorrow we start over f'r real and we're gonna make plans and we're gonna survive...together."  

Another tear slid down her cheek and she said nothing, just watched him with her expressive eyes.  She squeezed his hand and he exhaled in relief.  Leaning over he tenderly brushed his lips across her temple, lingering for a beat longer than necessary.  He then settled back into his chair and shut his eyes, his hand still gripping hers like a lifeline.  Tomorrow they were going to start again but this time it was going to be with one another.  


End file.
